


A Little Friction

by Nao



Series: Prompts and Drabbles [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, game of thrones s6, littlefinger is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 16:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18578344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nao/pseuds/Nao
Summary: “You don’t know anything about me.”“Because you won’t tell me anything!”After the Battle of the Bastards, Jon and Sansa try to get to know each other.





	A Little Friction

> _“You don’t know anything about me”  
>  “Because you won’t tell me anything!”_

The silence between them was startling in its complete stillness. Jon’s face had immediately morphed into a cross between his still simmering anger and horror at having spoken so frankly.

Sansa stared at him, her eyes wide from the volume of his voice, but unforgivingly hard still.

“My lord”, she drawled in her cultured Riverlands accent, sounding so like her mother that Jon’s burgeoning guilt at raising his voice dissipated like mist. “You must forgive me, I had not realized that I was to both remain silent until spoken to and somehow bare my heart to you all at once.” She made to turn away and leave his solar. Before she could reach the door, Jon spoke.

“I only meant, Sansa,” he emphasized her name and frowning at her, “that if we are to trust each other then we must know each other. I was not trying to blame you for taking Littlefinger’s hand when he was the only choice before you, just…”, he trailed off, heartfelt words as usual not being his strength.

Clenching and unclenching his hand, he waited for her to say something. The silence was palpable again.

Sansa didn’t turn around, but Jon saw her shoulders relax, ever so slightly.

“You’re king now Jon, and you have much and more to do than pry all the details of my time with Littlefinger out of me,” she said, huffing a little sigh afterward. “Now that Winterfell and the North is ours again, you must leave some things to me.”

Jon waited for her to go on, but that was all. So he approached her, walking around to face her, slowly. When he met Sansa’s eyes as always he felt that little frisson of  _something_  run from his scalp to his toes, but he’d had much practice at not showing his feelings at the Wall and now was no exception.

“I know you can handle him,” he began, haltingly, worrying over his words like a Ghost with a bone. “I trust you know what you’re doing. What I want is what we had before. Before everything went to shit and Father died and Robb and your Lady mother. Before Theon sacked our home. Before Arya and Bran and—,” Jon stopped before saying Rickon’s name.

“I want laughter Sansa. But how can we have that if we don’t talk to each other?”

Sansa took his hands at the end of his speech, not quite smiling, but her eyes were crinkled around the edges, the way they got when she was amused.

“I think that’s the lengthiest bit of talking I’ve ever heard from you,” she said, all the tension leeched from her voice now. “I know what you want Jon, and I want that too. We can start small and build,” she smiled as she finished and tugged him out of the solar and into the hallway beyond.

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the first fic I ever wrote.


End file.
